Tempestas
by theendsofmay
Summary: Amara de' Medici is well and truly surrounded by Borgias. Her romantic entanglement with Cesare Borgia reaches its peak along with her struggles to secure her beloved hometown, Florence. A oneshot bridge between The Unholy Family and its sequel.


**1495**

 **May**

By the month of May Lucrezia Borgia's time of rest after birth was over. The period which was supposed to be a time reflection for her to mull over her sins had instead been full of joyful laughter. It would appear that being a mother suited the young Borgia more than marriage ever had.

Amara de' Medici had been awaiting her dearest friend's arrival with eager anticipation. The Vatican gardens were not peaceful like the Borgia Villa had been. Constant flustered messengers marched through the Vatican in order to speak with Cardinals or the Holy Pope of Rome himself.

"Amara!" She had decided long ago that the sweetness of a child's voice was her favourite.

"Joffre Borgia." Amara yanked her heavy body from the grassy floor. "I am very disappointed in you."

"Why?" The youngest Borgia asked with concern.

"Because you do not visit me enough." She explained. "Why is it you do not visit me?"

The poor boy looked quite scared of the Medici girl he had once claimed to be in love with. It was whispered – by kitchen maids – that he was still infatuated with her but nobody could be certain why the claim was there when they laid eyes on his wife Sancha.

"Do not fret, Little Joffre." She let her face fall into a lazy smile. "I do not blame you for anything, being married is very hard."

"It is." He agreed standing tall and proud. Although he was married Joffre appeared to the only one who had not been changed by his father becoming Pope. He still maintained an air of purity, something which was almost extinct inside the Vatican's walls.

Amara lifted her jewelled hand to shield her eyes from the sun. It was only when she did that she was able to see the balcony, a balcony which revealed both Juan and Sancha fretting over something which lay in her arms.

A baby!

Before Joffre could say another word Amara was moving at a considerable pace towards the pair she had so desperately tried to avoid in the past.

"Where is she?" Amara could not hold back and be gracious in the moment. She was too overcome with happiness of Lucrezia's return to be proper.

"Inside." Juan replied to her and looked as though he was going to continue but Amara persisted merrily on her way unaware of how wonderful those extra words of warning would have been.

"Lucrezia!" She sang but it wasn't Lucrezia's figure which stood proudly with his back turned but that of Cesare Borgia. Perhaps, she should have listened to Juan's words for it felt as though she had taken a fall from her horse at the mere sight of him.

"Amara!" The voice managed to turn both Cesare and Amara away from each other and towards the young mother. Amara managed a smile that didn't fit properly on her face, it twisted in an awkward way and raised her mouth too far up.

"Lucrezia." Amara breathed into the hug.

"Excuse me, sister." The Cardinal interrupted them. "Lady Medici." He addressed her in a tone that would scrape by as civil.

"What is wrong with him?" Lucrezia contemplated when he was out of the room. "He's been in a mood for weeks. Did something happen between the two of you?"

Amara couldn't stop her mind from remembering and cursed herself for it…

 _Three weeks before_

 _April 1495_

 _Amara shifted awkwardly in the velvet booth. She had heard of Cesare Borgia's return from his pursuit of Della Rovere earlier that morning and requested a confession before her confidence could buckle._

 _"_ _Little Medici." He breathed with a shocked grin. "You requested the confession then?"_

 _"_ _Yes." She kept her eyes fixed on the golden cross in front of her and hoped she could keep up the strength she needed._

 _"_ _And you did not think that we should meet in a more private venue?"_

 _"_ _No." She pressed on before her nerves could tumble. "I wanted to speak to you of a vow I made."_

 _"_ _A vow?" He seemed puzzled by her words. "To whom?"_

 _Amara dug her nails into the soft velvet and tried to take comfort in it. She didn't take pleasure in telling Cesare the words. "To our Lady, and to Saint Agnes."_

 _"_ _I see." Of course he did, he was a Cardinal after all. Cesare knew exactly why women of high class swore to Saint Agnes, they swore to keep themselves pure._

 _"_ _I made it with my mother." She strained to reason. She could still remember how her mother had smiled when she pledged the vow and how her father had held a banquet that night with ice cream. It had been the first time she had ever felt the sweet sensation on her tongue. "She did the same when she had her first blood and… I cannot break it."_

 _"_ _What was this vow?" He sounded harsher now, a hint of sarcasm traced his voice as he continued. "That you made to the Saints of Chasity."_

 _Amara ignored the severity of Cesare and concentrated on her words. She could not blame him for being angry when a part of herself was angry too. "That I would only lie with a man who was to be my husband."_

 _"_ _And I cannot be that man." It sounded almost like a joke to him. He was banned from being the man he wanted to be at every turn, he wished to be the Gonfalonier and had no doubt that if he were such a man he would already have the girl pushing him away._

 _She closed her eyes in a failed attempt to keep her eyes dry and pursed her lips. "No."_

 _"_ _Do you wish me to find you a husband then?" Cesare sneered at the preposterous notion but wanted to hear her answer all the same._

 _"_ _Would you?" Amara found her tone matching his._

 _He was swift and stark in his reply. "No."_

 _"_ _I thought not." Amara straightened herself a little further and tried to recall the feeling of pride that swelled within her when her mother saw her make that holy vow so long ago. "So I will have to take up my cross and pledge myself once more to the man who will be my husband."_

 _"_ _And if you never marry?" Amara's head snapped towards him at the words, they didn't sound like a question but a promise. She hadn't thought that Cesare would go so far as to never let her marry, to never give her up._

 _She tried to collect herself with dignity and almost succeeded. "Then the Vatican will be my convent."_

 _"_ _And we will be no more than acquaintances. You my ward and I your formal guardian." Was that what she wanted? It made sense but something inside of her fell a little at the idea she had torn Cesare Borgia from her for good. "Good day, Lady Medici. You are absolved of all your sins."_

"Of course not, my sweet Lucrezia." Amara smiled at the girl and casted the memory from her mind. "Nothing ever occurred between the two of us."

 **June**

Lucrezia de' Medici was almost ten years older than Amara and the eldest of all her siblings.

She had always been wise and strong, something her father, Lorenzo the magnificent, had commended her on. Amara knew that her father loved her of course but there was always a dark nagging feeling that lay in the back of her stomach. He saw Lucrezia as the strong one while Amara would always be the sweet innocent girl with bright green eyes.

Lucrezia was married to Jacopo Salvitati before Amara turned six years old. It was something that Amara hadn't felt the need to be envious of, after all her father would one day find her a match who would twice as charming and beautiful as Lucrezia's husband.

Still, that was then and Amara had found herself with a growing resentment towards her siblings since her confession with Cesare Borgia. He had promised her that she would have no marriage. It was an easy thing to say to herself and she was starting to endure the pain of knowing it would never come to pass until she received word of her sister's engagement. It appeared that her brother, in all his wisdom had decided to marry her sister Contessina to a man of high standing in the hope that he could save their crumbling family.

It was not only her sister's upcoming nuptials that made Amara's stomach turn with loneliness but the fact that her eldest sister had delivered of a baby girl, Elena in the early hours on the twelfth of June. Amara had sworn to Cesare that she would be a nun in all but title and so far she had been keeping the promise with enough ease to get her through the day. The thought of never having a child, as nuns did, caused Amara's gut to convulse in frequent flashes.

"There you are." Lucrezia's voice was warm as she entered the chapel. "Have you been hiding?"

"No." Amara rose from her pew and faced her friend in the silent church. She forced the letter from her sister behind her back and avoided looking at the cooing bundle in Lucrezia's arms.

"I think you have." She disagreed coyly. "Is it because of Cesare? He's a nightmare of late, he will barely smile for me."

"He's been quite," Amara paused and searched for a word that suited her situation. "Tiring."

"I would love to say he has been more of a handful than this one." She stared down at her son with the adoration only a mother can possess. Amara dug her nails into her palms and prayed for the strength to not cry or worse vomit at the sight.

"I'm sure Giovanni does nothing on purpose."

Lucrezia let out a large yawn. "Perhaps we should retire to bed, Donna Amara." Noticing for the first time the tears in her dearest friend's eyes she smiled sweetly and proposed. "We could have sweet tea and talk of the day."

"I would like that very much." Amara admitted taking Lucrezia's hand in her own.

* * *

Amara woke not to the steaming sunlight and the sound of Lucrezia's bath as most days but instead the sound of arguing. She rolled onto her side and found Lucrezia sound asleep beside her, her golden locks fallen across her face.

Amara stirred to sit up and extract herself from the bed. She remained quiet as her feet plodded along the floor over to the cradle. Giovanni lay as tranquil as the baby Jesus himself. She observed him for a moment in a state of pleasant calmness. It was not to be though as a loud crash broke out snapping Amara's head around. Although the child did not wake Amara could not help but be furious whoever it was had ruined her moment with the child and also threatened to wake both he and his mother up.

"What are you doing?" Amara couldn't hide the astonishment in her voice as she entered the hall and addressed two male servants. "Have you gone mad?"

"We are moving belongings, my lady." The servant seemed worried as he focused on Amara's stern face.

"I can see that." Amara remarked. "Would you like to tell me why?"

"The master ordered it." Another servant said with a shaking voice.

"And where is your master?" She was almost on her last nerve as she enquired.

"Are you looking for me, Lady Medici?" She stilled and bit the inside of her lower lip. Even though she couldn't see him the grin Cesare was wearing it came across in his voice.

Amara sighed before she slowly turned to face the Cardinal. "What are you doing?"

"I am moving." His smugness was frustrating.

"At such an unearthly hour?" Amara questioned his sanity.

"Just because you and my sister choose to sleep until dusk does not mean that every soul can wait for you." He jested playfully but the insult which called her idle still remained.

Amara tried a new tactic as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You are going to wake the child."

"I assure you I will not." Cesare smiled leaning against the corridors wall.

"Your men woke me." She reasoned.

"And I'm sure it did you good." A smile formed on his face yet a seriousness remained in his eyes as he continued with his sentence. "You are awake and I'm sure St. Agnes has many plans for you today."

Amara felt the distressing cold lick over her skin and struggled to form an answer to his cruel words. Fortunately, there was a loud bang from behind her which caused her to flinch and all thoughts of answering Cesare were forgotten.

Cesare stormed past Amara, brushing her as he went and nearly knocking him over. "Hurry and take everything to the rooms before you break something."

"What rooms?" It suddenly clicked to Amara that if Cesare was moving he would be moving somewhere inside the Vatican walls compared to his usual home of *.

"The Papal Rooms."

"And what need do you have to take your belongings to the Papal Rooms?" It was a foolish question yet Amara was still wishing that he would not answer what she assumed he would.

"I am moving there." He scanned her face looking for anything which would betray her reaction.

"Why?" Cesare had not expected her to ask that. He had expected her to scream and complain about them living so near to one another.

"The villa was becoming an inconvenience." Cesare leaned his shoulder against the painted wall and smirked. "I could not oversee my issues in the Vatican easily."

Amara curled in her toes and stood her ground. "You shall be staying with the other Cardinals then?"

"Yes." He closed the space between them and tilted her head upwards to face him. "Do not fret Amara, I shall always be close by."

Amara tried to reign in her anger but failed. She twisted on her heel and retreated back into Lucrezia's room before she could look at his smug face once again. It was clear now that Cesare Borgia had no intention of keeping their relationship under formal control.

* * *

 **July**

Amara was afraid to admit that she was scared.

Cesare had fetched her from her own chambers and requested that she met with his father. She disliked her meetings with the Pope since he always wanted something from her and she was often unable to say no. Once she had believed that the Pope did everything out of love but since she had lied about Giovanni Sforza Amara was less inclined to trust.

The Holy Father sat in his great chair behind the levitated oak desk. "We are becoming increasingly worried by the disturbing affairs in Florence."

"I can assure you, Your Holiness, that nobody is more disturbed than I." Amara managed to hold her voice and remain Florentine's diplomat.

"And we do believe that it owes its origins to the preaching of Savonarola." The Holy Father sounded as repulsed by the mad priest as she was.

"I entirely agree, Holy Father." Amara almost smiled. Perhaps the troubles in Florence would not be played out for much longer and the friar that haunted her dreams would be cast out into darkness.

"Your sister has recently married." She had not told anyone in Rome of that news. However, the Pope would have spies in such a delicate political state. "Something the friar argues against."

"Indeed." Amara didn't realise she had dropped the politeness of addressing the Pope and he did not comment on the fact. She only wished to urge him onwards with him news.

"We wanted you to write to your brother, Piero and ask his opinion on the matter." It was something she had not expected the pope to ask. Why would he wish to know what Piero thought?

The Pope stood from his desk, gesturing for Amara to take the seat. She did with great caution and stared down at the blank paper he had laid out ready for her. It was the only thing on the clear desk, along with a pen and a vat of ink. She wanted to begin at once yet something inside her brain gnawed at the proposition set by Il Papa. There had to be a reason for their wanting her to write other than being rid of Savonarola. After all, Della Rovere and French King were more pressing matters.

Still, the idea of Piero seeing the influence she had in Rome brought a smile to her face. She kept the thought of Piero's shocked face in her mind as she picked up the pen and wrote.

"You must excuse me but we have other issues to attend to." Amara continued to write and did not notice therefore the look that the Pope gave his son on the way out of the room.

"You're not speaking to me." She was surprised to find that Cesare was still in the room. She had been under the impression that he had left with his father.

Amara didn't look up or even move from her position as she read over her finished letter once more. "Why should I speak to you when the only words that leave your lips are lies?"

"You think I lie to you?" Cesare sounded as though the notion almost humoured him.

Amara stood from the Pope's chair and cried, "You _always_ lie to me!"

"I have spoken out against my father for you!" All sense of humour had vanished from his tone and was replaced by something darker. "Everything I do is always in care of _you_."

"Florence was nearly excommunicated because of you and your family's pride." It was true. Cesare had spoken out against his father but it had been after Florence had nearly been thrown from God's hand. Even though Florence had not been cast from God the Medici's had been from their homeland, Florence.

"I am the only reason that Florence and you are still safely written on God's hand." Cesare moved swiftly towards Amara. She endeavoured to move back but smacked the base of her spine into the desk. Cesare was leaning over her as he continued. "I spoke out against my father to ensure that they remained so."

They watched one another. Amara observed his eyes flicker from her own down towards her trembling lips, wondering… hoping… until he heard her soft pleading voice beg. "Cesare…"

"I know." He pushed himself away with a jerk, his hands running over his face and through his hair. "I know. It is impossible."

"Do you enjoy torturing me, Cardinal?" She accused heatedly. He stood so righteously, like her denying him was something that he could mock.

"I torture you?" He seemed astonished by the accusation.

"Yes." She blasted back at him. "Don't you think that it is as hard for me as it is for you?"

"If it is so hard," The cardinal grasped her and drew her into his body. "Why deny yourself?"

Amara surrendered for a moment, feeling Cesare's arms around her, she sighed. There was such sweet content to be found there but her mother's cross around her neck still hung heavy about her neck. "Because I made and vow!" She jerked herself from his arms and retreated until her back hit the stone wall. "But somehow I seem to forget it when I am around you."

"A vow to the mother of Chasity." He cursed the words and the day she chose to make that vow. Amara, if anything, was stubborn nevertheless so was he. He hauled himself up and closed the space between them, trapping her body between the wall and his own. "Then I will make a vow."

"And who will you make this vow to?" She tried to control her breathing but no matter how she did her breasts heaved upwards and met his body.

"You." Cesare's fingers propped her head upwards to face him. "I swear, that I will serve you and only you until you can see that I am the only man who will ever be enough for you. Until you understand that this," He thrust his golden cross around his neck into her hand. "Is this only thing that stands between yourself and I. That stops us from joining forever." Amara couldn't breathe. Cesare Borgia, the Cardinal, had just proposed himself as her only suitor.

Amara clutched at her throat, scrambling for the necklace that had once belonged to her mother. She tried to remember the vow and how happy it had made her mother but the image of Cesare Borgia walking away was so much stronger.

Amara repeated the action the next morning when he had heard, from a rather confused Lucrezia that Cesare had rode to Florence at first light without his father's permission.

* * *

 **SEPTEMBER**

Cesare returned to Rome in the darkness and his father was not pleased.

The Borgia Pope sat behind his desk, the candles orange fire flickered, reflecting in his eyes. "We have missed your council for almost a month."

"It is a long journey between Rome and Florence." Cesare tried to remain calm and soothe his father's rising temper.

"We did not realise that Della Rovere had fled to Florence." There was an edge to his father's voice which worried Cesare. He had not expected his father to react well to his travels which were clearly for the sake of the Medici girl. "We had heard that he had found homage with Cardinal Giovanni Medici. Something that you may have known if you had been doing what _we_ want of you."

"Savonarola is gathering allies." Cesare attempted to justify his journey, even he could not admit the real reason and the thought of telling his father the truth haunted him. "He speaks out against us at every occasion."

The Holy Father waved his hand in the air and dismissed the villain. "We will deal with Savonarola later."

"Father…" Cesare pressed on.

"What does the Medici girl say?" The Pope set his hard hawk eyes onto his eldest son. "Do you receive your orders from her?"

"It was you her placed her under my protection." Cesare remained strong that his reasoning for visiting the girl's home was for his own good. "You who told me to win her affection."

"And you must." His father agreed passionately. "We would have our enemies bound to us."

"I am trying, Holy Father." Cesare argued against his father. He was tried and needed to rest, dark purple shadows were beginning to form beneath his eyes.

"She is the product of all our enemies. Her mother an Orsini and her Father a Medici." The Pope spoke of her as though she were a devil come to take away all he had built up. "Not to the mention what she must know from Niccolo Machiavelli"

"She doesn't know anything." Cesare defended her innocence.

"Perhaps your brother would be able to convince me of that." It was not often that the Borgia Pope would use the brotherly rivalry between his to his advantage. Still, it worked every time he tried and perhaps the fight over the Medici would help them forget the pettiness of their careers.

Cesare's jaw clenched, he did not try to hide his distain at the thought of his brother being near Amara. "She must trust me before she can tell me."

"Trust in Rome?" The Pope laughed at such a notion. "She would be foolish to so freely give it."

"She would but I can confirm that she is not." Cesare knew that this was true. Amara was not foolish no matter how innocent she was in the art of politics.

His father pursed his lips before he sighed. "And what would we have to do to receive such a precious gift?"

* * *

Amara de' Medic awoke with a start as dawn broke through the cracks of her drapes. "Cesare!" Amara scolded the cardinal as he came bounding into her room unannounced in the early morning.

"I wanted to tell you in person." Cesare was slightly out of breath but the smile on his face showed he was oblivious to it, meanwhile Amara clutched at her white bed sheet and raised it over her indecent figure.

"Tell me what?" She sounded dazed, still puzzled by the situation of having a man who was not a part of her family in her room at such an outrageous hour.

He paused wanting to savour the moment. "My father has issued an edict that will ban Savonarola from speaking publically."

"What?" Cesare didn't reply. Instead he stood tall and proud while he raised one eyebrow towards the ceiling. Amara clambered from her upright position, ran across the length of the bed and straight into the cardinal's arms. He stumbled back a little but caught her all the same. Eventually she pulled back with a laugh. "Is this what you were doing in Florence?"

"Perhaps." He said brazenly.

"So," All thought of decency had flown from her head. All she could think of now was Cesare's news and her family's happiness, not about the flimsy white nightgown she wore. "When can my family return?"

Cesare's face fell slightly. "Have patience, Little Medici."

Amara exhaled harshly and pushed herself away from his arms. "I'm so tired of this."

"What?" The edge to his voice had returned.

Amara raised her hand out of the large window to feel the sun on her skin. "Being banished."

"Do you miss it so much?" He enquired softly now.

She smiled in some sort of humour only known to her and answered. "Constantly."

"Even when your family returns you know you will not." Surprisingly Cesare told her the truth. He had lied to her so much already and he was going to lie to her in the future but for the moment he could not.

"I know." It was not a revelation even if it did make her heart sink. "But my family being there is right and I would find solace in them being there." The Cardinal focused on the Medici girl and pondered if she cared as much for her family as he did his.

* * *

 **October**

Occasionally Amara would awake alongside the sun.

It was on one of these rare cases that Amara found herself walking through the Vatican corridors. She had been hoping to see Alvarardo and possibly take him for a ride before he was exercised by one of the grooms. That was before she was ran into by the Duke of Gandia.

He had been shoved out of the door by a giggling women. Juan was still pulling on his white shirt and his breeches were undone. He too was laughing with the women who had pushed him from her rooms. At least he did until he saw Amara.

His face fell into a lazy smile. "Amara de' Medici."

"My Lord." Amara was fully aware that she had caught him in a rather compromising position. Previously, Amara may have had enough naivety to not piece the facts together but it was now obvious to the girl what Juan had been doing.

"Juan." Amara recognised the women's voice instantly now she was not giggling. Still, when Sancha came into the light of the corridor it was confirmed. "Amara."

To her credit she sounded shaken and perhaps a little embarrassed…or worried. However, she called Amara by her first name. It was something that the beautiful women had taken to doing since she first met Amara. Nonetheless, Amara could do the same.

"Sancha." Amara's voice was hard. She wasn't sure how to react. It was clear that Juan had been sleeping with his brother's wife and Joffre's bride was sleeping with his brother. Amara wasn't sure which one disgusted her more, she only knew that she was disgusted.

Amara's mind was racing but it kept coming back the same thought.

 _Joffre_.

Poor Joffre. He was annoying and childish to be sure yet he was still the sweetest soul on the planet or at least Rome. She could not contemplate why Sancha or Juan could have possibly gone on in their act for so long.

"Let me explain." Juan started and stopped. It seemed that even he could not come to a conclusion that would make Amara happy with the situation. She had caught them.

"There is nothing to explain." Amara smiled. She wanted to be away from them and everyone else. She started to walk not bothering to be polite enough to excuse herself.

She wondered who could have known. She wondered if everyone a part from her knew. Amara increased her pace and shut her eyes. It did not matter though, however hard she tried she could not be rid the memory of Juan's face as he told Joffre how beautiful his bride was from her mind.

* * *

The Cardinal, the Lady Amara's de' Medici's guardian, had decided to throw a banquet party in celebration of his ward's sixteenth birthday. The Pope who enjoyed feasting was pleased with the decision made by his son within the clothe.

Amara had been presented with many presents over the course of the night. It was remarkable how many families thought they could gain her approval with the use of pretty things. Even if they did manage to attain her approval she was not in any position of power over Cesare at the moment. She had already asked too much of him with Florence.

There was one present which Amara found herself entranced with. It had been from the Signoria in Florence. The same Signoria who had cast out her family out with a golden price upon both of her brother's heads. They had given her a vase, one she recognised well. It belonged in the corner of her father's study. The vase had been sculpted by Michelangelo. It was Medici blue but in the middle of the vase there was a golden cross.

The gift brought anger upon Amara. The gift belonged in her Father's study inside the house of Medici, the house she had grown up in. She had heard rumours that the Signoria had pillaged the place yet she didn't believe them until the gift had arrived. Another wave of anger had hit when Amara realised just why they had sent her that item. The cross was a symbol of Savonarola. They were just as useless in the fight against him and were now requesting Amara's help through her influence in Rome.

Amara almost laughed at the thought of herself having such an influence.

"Which one is it then?" Amara gasped as a hand lay upon her shoulder but laughed it off when she saw that it was only Joffre.

"What, my sweet?" She overcompensated with affections in order to hide the guilt she felt. She knew that his wife was with his brother while he remained in the dark.

"Which gift did he present you with?" He sounded more forceful. It reminded her more of Juan when he built up a temper not Joffre.

Amara looked perplexed. "Who, dear Joffre?"

"My brother." He almost spat the word out.

"Cesare?" Amara's face did not change from its confused state.

"Yes!" Joffre exclaimed furiously.

"I'm not sure." Amara knew exactly what Cesare had given her but she thought it best to leave the boy in the dark about the silver jewellery box. "I'd have to check."

"Or perhaps he's given you a gift you cannot show me." Joffre's speech was beginning to slur as he took a step towards Amara. He was as tall as her now and his breath smelt of Roman wine. "Perhaps he's presented you with a new nightgown that only he can appreciate you in."

Amara's blood ran cold as she scowled. "I think you should consider what you are implying, Joffre."

"Why should I?" Joffre smirked. It worried Amara how he found such pleasure in her distress. "The whole of Rome knows it."

"Knows what?" She barked.

"That you and he are together. This festivity confirms it." Amara felt her heart clinch into itself. It was in celebration of her birthday nothing more, she knew that. Yet, Rome may have had other ideas. She thought of the gifts that she had been sent with anguish.

"Joffre." Amara almost growled her warning afraid of what more he might say and what she may do if he did.

Joffre had already made up his mind and continued on in his jealous spite. "You are nothing but a common _whore_. _His_ _whore_."

Amara could scarcely breathe or think of anything other than her fury. With one swoop she raised her hand high into the air. There was no time for regret as Amara cast her hand forward.

She expected Joffre to cry out or perhaps simply cry but nothing came. She followed his wary eyes to the thing that had captured his attention. It was only when she saw Juan Borgia Amara realised that he had stopped her from striking his little brother.

"Now, now." He tutted. "Let us avoid a scene." Amara reddened and wished her would free her arm so she could strike herself. Why was she blushing when she had done nothing wrong? She had every right to strike Joffre after all that he had said.

"My little brother has drank too much wine." Juan explained calmly. He seemed to be the only composed one in the conversation. "I'm sure that anything he has said is against his breeding and I'm certain he wishes to apologise."

Joffre looked like a wet cat. His face had fallen into an irritated slump. "I beg your forgiveness, my lady." It didn't sound as though he begged her forgiveness. It didn't sound like anything of the sort.

"Then all is well again." Juan answered on the Medici girls behalf. In other circumstances Amara may have been frustrated but it seemed that she herself could not speak even if she had wanted to. The events of the night were weighing on her and she feared that if she spoke she would cry. That was certainly something she didn't wish anyone, including Juan Borgia to know. "My Lady, you must accompany me in the next dance."

The pair turned but were unable to move since Cardinal Cesare Borgia blocked their path. He was glaring at them with harsh, dark eyes. He was torn between examination at the way Juan held Amara's hand tightly and how the girl's eyes were filled with red tears. In fact, he was so focused on the two that he did not see the way the youngest Borgia disappeared back into the crowd.

"Brother." Juan greeted calmly, mostly because he was winning.

"Amara," His eyes pressed on her like hawks. "What ill has befallen you?"

"No ill, brother," Juan argued clearly pleased at his brother's distress. "I appears our little brother said something that offended our sweet Amara."

"Amara?" Cesare was searching Amara's face for some inclination into her feeling.

She was quick to reassure her guardian. "I am fine."

"We were about to dance." Cesare remained still but Amara noted how his hand flinched on the hilt of his sword. "A social necessary not fit for a Cardinal to join in with."

Juan began to lead Amara away but Cesare had other ideas as he grabbed her wrist stopping the couple from moving any further. Amara stood, trapped between the Cardinal and the soldier but she was not sure which one was the most dangerous in that moment. "I do not think that the Lady Medici is inclined to dance at this moment."

"Is that so, brother?" Juan smirked with no sign of brotherly affection.

Cesare stood his ground, his eyes fixated on Juan. Both brothers continued to ignore her as Cesare spoke. "She is tired."

Amara broke the bonds that each Borgia held with a forceful yank. She would not be bartered over like a golden goose. Before either of the brothers had the chance to stop her she stormed through the banquet hall and away from public eye.

She had gathered a great distance between herself and the hall and was almost back at Lucrezia's room when she heard the gathering footsteps behind her.

"Amara!" She did not turn to the sound of Cesare Borgia's authority filled tone. It was only when he seized her wrist she spun on reflex. "Amara! What ill did he do to you?"

She wrenched her hand from his and spat. "I will not be a stimulus for this petty feud between the two of you."

He was unconvinced and pressed on with his questioning. "What did Juan do?"

"Nothing!" Amara protested Juan's innocence. He had saved her from an embarrassing moment, one that may have ruined everything she had built in Rome and Amara was not in the mood to betray him for Cesare's pride. "Juan has done nothing to me while you seem to find pleasure in tormenting me."

"I do no such thing." Cesare objected ardently.

"You promise me one thing and then do another." Amara clarified with a scoff. "You claim to be so powerful and yet you cannot help me at all." When she first came in Rome she calmed herself by saying that she could help her family. She was the youngest child and a girl. She thought it would be the best way to help but slowly she was beginning to understand that politics was not that simple and Cesare Borgia was as useless as her.

"I am trying." He defended.

"And I am watching my family fall." Amara snapped. "My cousins have taken down their Medici arms and changed their names, while the Signoria has set a price upon my brother's heads if they set foot in Florence again."

"The Pope of Rome has issued three bulls in the last –"

"It seems to me that you keep repeating the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome. It does matter how many bulls or edicts or orders your father barks because Savonarola doesn't care." The Papal Edict had made no difference to Florence and her brother wrote to her ever since the Pope had forced her to write the letter demanding that she made the Pope do something. She did not bother to reply that the Pope already had done something because there was clearly no point in destroying the hope of another Medici. However, she did inform Machiavelli of the matter.

"What would you have me do then?" He bit back wishing to be enlightened.

Amara cursed herself for not having an answer but she knew little of politics and just how to achieve the aims she desired. "I just want him gone and clearly you are failing." Cesare said nothing, his face had grown tighter throughout their heated conversation. Amara knew somewhere inside of her that there was little else that Cesare could do, yet he was her only source of power and his lack of success was beginning to wear thin on the Medici girl.

Amara began her departure from the conversation until a solid hand smacked against her upper arm holding her in place. "Why is it you've turned your rage on?" His dark questioning eyes hooked onto hers. "What happened?"

Amara attempted to twist her arm from his grip but he remained strong. "Savonarola."

"No, no." He fought firmly. "You have known for weeks that Savonarola still practices his sermons in Florence and you have not complained to me once." His dispute had good reasoning, it was something that Amara didn't wish to admit. "What happened? What did Juan do?"

"Juan didn't do anything." She pulled her arm back and this time he let it fall from his grip.

"Then who?" Cesare interrogated.

Amara took a few steps forward towards the balcony. She let her hands drift over the smooth marble until she admitted quietly into the abyss below. "Joffre called me a whore."

"He did what?" The roar of anger was not something Amara could hide from. It shot over her nerves like an ice cold wave.

"A whore, he thinks I'm a whore." Growing in confidence she turned to face the stunned Cardinal. "He thinks I'm _your_ whore." Her voice grew quieter as she mentioned the next and more pressing matter which caused her unhappiness. "Along with the rest of Rome."

"Amara." He heaved a sigh realising that is was the whispering of gossip which made her to be so discontented. "Rome is full of scandal."

"I don't _care_ if Rome is full of scandal I do not wish to be a one." She snapped twisting around once more to face the balcony.

"Then I will remove the source of every scandal that is whispered." He was soundless as he approached her, so when he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close she almost jumped. "Anyone who utters a single word will meet my wrath."

Giving into herself she relaxed against his strong chest and sighed. "Thank you."

"You should sleep." He pressed his lips to the top of her head and took a step back. "I shall ensure that no one shall cause you grief again."

* * *

 **November**

November brought cold winds and hail that banged against the windows of Lucrezia's bedchamber. Amara could barely bring herself to leave her bed while Lucrezia had moved Giovanni's cot to her side so she was not forced to brace the cold wind when he cried.

The days continued as normal for everyone else inside the Vatican gates. Amara ventured out twice a day for mass or chapel but preferred to stay by the fire either in her own or Lucrezia's room with a book.

"My dear." Amara was called by Juan one morning on her way to chapel. He was standing underneath the veranda and watching the courtyard below with curiosity. "Have you wished by my brother goodbye?"

Amara's heart began to race as she ingested his words. "Your brother?" She almost stuttered. Surely Cesare wouldn't have left Rome without telling her.

"Joffre." Juan's answer quelled her nerves although his face didn't change.

"Joffre?" Amara's was startled that he would have left.

"Yes. It appeared Cesare believed it would be best if he and his wife returned to Squillace." Amara had not seen Cesare since her birthday. He seemed busy making arrangements of a kind and was constantly carrying around papers.

"And the Pope agreed?" It seemed preposterous to Amara that the Borgia Pope would send any of his children away from the Vatican.

"It appears so." Juan seemed nonchalant in his answer.

Amara cocked her head to one side and observed him. "And how do you feel about this?"

"Why would I feel anything about it?" There was a small smirk playing around his lips.

"Because you're fucking his wife." Amara couldn't believe her words had left her mouth but somehow they had. The look on his face forced Amara to keep hers composed. He deserved to be shocked after his behaviour at the wedding and the strange sensation of power she felt somehow made it worth any reaction.

"Lady Medici." He grinned through his astonishment.

"Well don't you feel some unpleasant towards their leaving?" Amara turned her head to face the married couple below. Joffre was already in the carriage while Sancha looked about searching for something or someone. "You'll have to find a new play thing now?"

"I suppose I will." Juan was watching her now, Amara could feel his eyes burrow into her skin. "Are you on your way to Mass, my dear?"

"Yes." Amara answered honestly. Yet, her voice was small and timid for some reason.

"I do believe my brother is holding it this morning." Juan enjoyed the words on his tongue. Then he pushed off from his position and stood, towering over Amara. "I shall accompany you." Amara's blood grew cold as she realised what she had done. He took his arm in her own and she concentrated on keeping her smile in place.

Cesare was going to be angry and she did not think that an argument in chapel would be welcome news to the pope.

* * *

 _Amara was trapped at the end of a dark corridor, lit by flickering orange candlelight. She was out of breath from running, her body exhausted and her heart hammering from trying to escape something._

 _She could hear clattering from a room at the end of the corridor. The room which smelt of incense, roasted meat and wine. The smell had drifted down through the brick walls, down to where Amara was standing, facing the dark dead end._

 _She heard the footsteps behind her approaching but couldn't remember who it was she had been trying to flee. Eventually, the footsteps stopped and Amara found herself with enough courage to turn and face whoever it was she feared._

 _Her brow fell as she saw his familiar face. Cesare Borgia stood in black leather trousers and a silk shirt of the same colour, watching and waiting for her to make the next move. She pressed herself up a little more against the rough brick wall. It wasn't like anything inside of the Vatican with its painted murals of biblical scenes, this place was black and dangerous. Cesare took soft, flowing steps towards her. Amara sucked in a long breath and held it._

 _"_ _Please." He implored against her soft skin, his lips brushing against her earlobe. Amara's mouth fell open, perhaps it was to speak, to ask him what he wanted, but no noise was released except a soft exhale of air._

 _"_ _Do not deny yourself." He moved his head back a little and traced kisses along her jawline until he reached her lips. He never touched them but hovered a little above instead. "Do not deny us."_

 _Cesare began to raise her scarlet gown up little by little. His hands graced the pink silk garter that both she and Lucrezia had bought to reveal her bare thighs. Something inside of her wanted to make her reach out and stop him but something stronger overruled it and Amara stayed perfectly still._

 _His breath was warm against the nape of her neck as he begged once more, "Come to my bed tonight and be mine."_

 _Amara could make no noise, instead she nodded and let his hand slipped between her legs._

Amara jerked awake. Her breath soon slowed as she realised that she was in Lucrezia's bed alone rather than being attacked by emotions she didn't want to face. Amara reached her hand through her curls and pulled herself up from the bed.

"Is there any way we could avoid mass this morning?" She enquired with a small amount of hope. Lucrezia disliked attending mass and would avoid it wherever possible.

"You don't want to attend mass?" Lucrezia placed her golden hairbrush down onto the vanity. "My God, what were you dreaming about?"

Amara blushed and looked down. "I just don't feel well."

"We can't miss it." Lucrezia insisted. "It's Sunday and Papa says we have to attend at least once a week."

"But I've already attended mass this week." Amara reminded the girl.

"And I haven't." Lucrezia quipped, starting to brush her hair once more. "Now, get up. We can't miss the show."

Mass on a Sunday was traditionally a flamboyant affair. This was something that hadn't changed under the Borgias but instead increased tenfold.

Amara lifted her chin high and listened to the soft music fill the air. They were waiting for the Cardinals to receive communion from the Pope before they, as high Ladies in Rome, would receive communion from the Cardinals.

Amara had been so wrapped up in herself she almost didn't feel Lucrezia's hand rest against her upper thigh. The Borgia mocked a yawn and wrapped her hand around Amara's tightly. She did not move from this position until it was her turn to take the blood and body of Christ. Lucrezia bounded happily up to her Holy Father and Amara smiled until she realised just who was waiting to give her communion.

Cesare Borgia did not often enjoy wearing his red cassock but he had to admit in that moment it had some profit. She was walking precisely with one foot carefully planted in front of the other before she continued in the hope that her shaking legs would not fall beneath her. Eventually Amara kneeled before him ready to partake in Holy Communion.

Amara felt as if she couldn't breathe. She tried to steady herself by reminding her mind that it was only communion and nothing more. Amara tilted her head up and immediately regretted it. Heat rose to her cheeks as Cesare's gaze locked onto her. She couldn't think of anything but the image of Cesare's lips on her skin.

"Are you quite well, Little Medici?" Cesare questioned with a grin instead of saying the usual ' _Bread of Christ.'_

Amara nodded as she parted her lips to receive the bread. His fingers graced her lips while she attempted to concentrate on the last supper and not her memory.

"Perhaps some of our Saviours blood will restore your health." He quipped bringing the chalice to her mouth. Amara was certain that he gave her more than the usual amount with the cup resting upon her lips for a few moments.

Annoyed by his teasing and certain that he had the ability to read her mind as the almighty did Amara stood abruptly and spoke, "I assure you, Cardinal I am quite well."

No matter how quickly Amara could not escape the laughter coming from his mouth or Lucrezia as she commented on how her she seemed a little 'flustered.'

* * *

 **December**

On the first day of December the cold spell ended with rain. For the first time in almost a month the small drops of rain began to fall from the sky and hit the streets of Rome.

The children in the city giggled, running out to enjoy the drops of hot water. Amara and Lucrezia were no strangers to this spell of happiness. They ran outside with shrills of laughter that filled the Vatican's gardens.

Amara tilted backwards into the rain and sighed blissfully, completely unaware of the disaster about to hit and how it would change her whole life.

It was in the remote darkness of the Roman night that Amara became aware the Rome was once again in danger. Her maids were bickering in the darkness about something, their whispers turning loud.

Amara's irritation boiled over as she threw herself from the bed and over to her maids. "What on earth are you two speaking of?"

One of them stared down at her feet and mumbled. "The cardinals."

"What of the Cardinals?" Amara invited her to elaborate with wide eyes.

She looked shocked at my lack of knowledge. "A dam –"

"It burst." The other girl finished her sentence.

Amara didn't wait to hear another word after that, she ran. She faintly heard one of the maids calling for her to take her wear a covering for her nightgown but Amara couldn't stop. Her legs moved faster pushing through the crowds which had gathered in from the wet, cold Roman night.

"Micheletto!" Amara cried over the stumbling men who had entered the safety of the Vatican.

"My Lady." He sounded surprised and had a face to match his tone.

Amara couldn't think of politeness and the correct way of speaking. Another burst of lightning flashed through the window and Amara rushed her question. "Where is your, master?"

"In his chambers."

Amara was gone before he finished his sentence but stopped herself to face the manservant. "Oh and another thing – I'm quite glad you're safe, Micheletto." He could have smiled at that, the young girl of noble blood turning to wish him, an assassin well. Something struck him and he had an insight into just why is master found her so fascinating. She was remarkably innocent.

Cesare was in his bed chamber, just as his manservant had informed, although Amara did not see him at first. He was sitting in a velvet chair in darkness while holding his head. Cesare moved to look up at the intruder, Amara took three more quizzical steps towards him. It was only when Cesare's face moved into the light she saw the reason he pressed a cloth to his face.

"Don't scream." He groaned.

"Why would I scream?" She raised an eyebrow at him and progressed closer. Easing the cloth from his hand she said, "Let me."

Reluctantly he agreed to the new arrangement. Amara almost gasped when she saw the gash on his head without the protection of the rag. Somehow she managed to keep it in. "How did it happen?" She wanted to sound at ease in the situation. If Cesare sensed that she was overwhelmed he would send her away.

"Cardinal Singiorgio almost fell when crossing the bridge." He sounded frustrated and a little weary. "I hit my head when I caught him."

"I'm sure it was heroic." Amara was trying to keep her emotions under control but the truth was she was angry. He had put himself in harm's way while she had been wondering if he was alive.

Amara was so focused on his deep cut that she did not notice the Cardinal's staring. "Have you been crying?"

"I thought you were dead." Her voice was tight. She pushed her lips together and forced the cloth down onto the wound once more. "It's done."

Amara threw the fabric down into the heavy metal bowl of water which consumed it and turned the water red. Cesare slipped an arm around her waist and quickly drew her down upon his knee. "I am not dead."

"You could have been." She defended her emotions. "I really thought you might have been."

"But I am not."

She allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "You are not."

Amara began to withdraw herself from the Cardinal. She almost made it when Cesare gripped an arm around her waist and dragged her back towards him. When his lips crushed onto hers she couldn't move or breathe or do anything other than remain perfectly still.

"I'm sorry." He apologised when he detached himself. "I had to."

Amara rested her forehead against his with closed eyes. "The vow I made -"

"I know."

"You don't." She pressed. "I have promised myself to only ever lie with the man who is to be my husband. I see no reason that you cannot be that man."

"I am a Cardinal." He pointed the flaw in her plan.

Amara smiled that he thought her foolish enough to have not realised that. "You will not always be a Cardinal."

Cesare could not argue with her logic. It was clear to see that he did not want to be a man of God forever. "People will talk."

Amara scoffed. "In Rome?"

"It would be true." The sound of gossip did not bother Cesare, people would talk about him regardless and half of it was true. Amara wasn't happy when the public spoke slander against her yet alone when they spoke the truth and she could no longer take the higher road.

"Then let it be and let them talk." Amara's smooth soft voice filled the room. She was so close to Cesare he only have to reach out and take her.

After a moment Cesare did just that. His arm wrapped around her waist and held her close, his mouth on hers. She surrendered with a sigh. She had fought herself and everyone around her for so long she had forgotten the bliss that could be found in yielding.

Cesare began to lift her nightgown up, little by little, until they had to separate so he could remove it. Amara tried not to appear self-conscious or think about the women Cesare must have been with before. She gathered that they must have been experienced and not at all nervous as she was. Still, Cesare was gentle as he watched her. Carefully, he began to advance towards Amara and she retreat until her knees hit the bed and she plummeted down onto the soft bedding below.

Amara breathed in and out in cautious, specific movements. She watched Cesare kneel before her and remove his white shirt. He lifted her leg and placed soft pecks on her ankle, slowly travelling up her thigh until he tugged her forwards and kissed a place Amara was certain he shouldn't have been kissing.

Amara didn't move, it felt…odd. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the feel of the golden sheets beneath her instead of the Cardinal between he –

"Oh!"

Amara gave a breathless gasp as she felt it. Something had pushed against her causing a burst of lightning to power through her body. She felt Cesare chuckle and the soft vibration only made things worse. Her back began to arch and one hand clasped the sheet above her head. Amara blushed a flushed pink at her body's reaction.

Cesare's tongue burrowed deeper and Amara's toes began to curl, her heel pressed into the hard wooden floor. She couldn't breathe but it was different to the times she had been out of breath before, it was not the way she felt after a long ride instead it felt different… almost as though she were suffocating.

Then, all at once, she gained breathe and it was over. Amara didn't realise how wonderful it had been until she floated back down, closed her eyes and listened to her heavy breathing.

It must have been two minutes before Amara realised that the room was still silent. She peeled her back up from the bed with a groan. Cesare was studying her with intent eyes like she was a game of chess he needed to solve.

Cesare never let his eyes move from Amara as his hands slowly reached down and undid his laces. Amara's eyes became wide as she threw her head away from Cesare before she could see anything more. She tried to concentrate on the sound of the rain as she felt the bed dip and a low chuckle erupt from Cesare's lips.

"Little Medici?"

"Yes." Amara didn't move her gaze from the silver moon that she could only just make through the clouds and storm.

"Look at me." He pleaded. She was petrified, unable to move a single muscle in her body until his soft fingers moved her jaw. She watched him and he her until a flash of lightning erupted and lit the room with a crack. The sound demanded Amara's attention and she jolted. "Does it scare you?"

"It was the first sound I heard when I was born." She had been told the story of the storm that hit Florence the night her mother cried out with labour pains a hundred times. Her Father enjoyed telling his re-enactment with dramatic gestures and poetic words. Her part was always the same. "I cried within a minute."

Cesare Borgia brought her hand to his lips and held it there with a serious expression. "You should never be scared, not when I'm with you."

"I know." She leaned into him and grasped his lips in hers. Amara supposed he must have been too startled to move because for a moment he did nothing.

In the end, he lowered her down onto the sheets. He traced a line of kisses down from her ear, to her jaw and eventually rested on her breast. He kissed one rosy peak and the innocent girl writhed under him completely unaware that she was. Cesare moved a hand slowly down to her legs and opened them out, positioning himself. It was at this point he drew back, licked his lips and looked at her. She was anxious and no matter how he tried he couldn't seem to comfort her.

"I don't know…" She struggled to find the words without letting mortification consume her. "What to do…"

"Trust me." He so sincere, like that one simple act would solve all her problems.

Amara beamed. "Always."

It was uncomfortable at first, with an almost stabbing pain in the base of her stomach. Cesare whispered softly in her ear, sweet caressing words that set her at ease and eventually the feeling passed and was replaced with that strange, overwhelming feeling she had felt before. If this was what sin felt like Amara understood why Eve fell.

At some point the next morning Amara awoke, the room bathed in a grey light as the rain continued to fall heavily down on the outside world.

She rotated herself to face Cesare who was concentrating on her naked shoulder, lightly tracing his fingers against her soft skin. He moved against her and seized her lips as his own. Amara's hand clasped his face closer. It was only when the Cardinal rolled on top of her that she felt the payment for the previous night and winced.

Laughing he drew back from her but kept one arm wrapped around her side to continue tracing her shoulder. "Is something wrong, Little Medici?"

Her body was sore yet she was glad of it. It made her feel like a women and gave her the confidence to face the future. "No." Amara disagreed although anyone could see the clear lie.

"Is that so?"

She elbowed him beneath the ribs but a smile still broke out on her lips. They laughed together their limbs intertwined until Amara twisted herself against Cesare's side. The fire had died down in the night and Amara was beginning to feel the cold. She pecked one kiss on Cesare's neck without a thought of her own empty bed and the gossip it would spark. Then she let her eyes flutter to a close, nestling into his side and letting sleep overcome her.

While the lovers slept Amara thanked God for the storm which had brought her to Cesare. Both were unaware that the same storm had drowned thousands, buried houses and set the Vatican back 300,000 ducats due to repairs.

* * *

 **A/N: I know I'm late but it was harder to start up from scratch. Still, it was almost double the length of anything else I've every written in my whole life! Over 10,000 words! I really do hope that you all liked it and you aren't too angry at such a long wait.**

 **1) Favourite part? Mine was when Amara jumped across the bed and into Cesare's arms - just thought it was super cute.**

 **2) This is my first time writing smut like this so I hope it was okay. I was cringing so hard when I wrote it but hopefully it all came out alright if you have anything you want to talk about with the smut relation feel free.**

 **3) What do you really want to happen in the next section of the story? Anything you just have to see come true?**

 **4) Feel free to leave a general comment about anything you want really. I don't mind and every review helps me along my merry way.**

 **I promise to have the next chapter up in under a month. I've already written some of it since I have a template and watching the series really inspires me. Please, please review it seriously helps so much.**

 **Thank you. Love you.**

 **\- Anna x**


End file.
